


To What Do I Owe This Kiss?

by TR33G1RL



Series: call me broken | call me fixed | call me yours [4]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Anal Sex, Banter, Foreplay, I didn't put as much focus on the sex in this one, I don't even know how to tag this one, M/M, Making Out, a really complicated relationship, admittedly its still not great, but honestly, but its getting better (???), it doesnt feel like it needs it, its more healthy than the last two stories though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 14:27:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20780072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TR33G1RL/pseuds/TR33G1RL
Summary: “What I’m telling you is that you get one night to pretend that we’re lovers. It will only be tonight, and after that, I will decide how true your feelings are and how I will act upon them.”-Hawkins and Apoo spend a night together to see each other's true emotions.





	To What Do I Owe This Kiss?

**Author's Note:**

> Oh! I also got a twitter, if anyone wants to follow me for updates on my stories! Its @TR33G1RL

It’s late - long after the colors of the sunset have faded away to night’s dark black-blue - when Apoo comes about to knock on Hawkins’ door. The quiet of the late night is disturbed by the rapping of Apoo’s knuckles on the heavy, wooden door, a sound akin to someone playing a small drum. It doesn’t take a single thought from Hawkins to know exactly who is at his door. He read his cards earlier, and had drawn both The Devil and The Lovers and a few other cards that connected the two ideas. From that, it didn’t take much more than a single thought to know who those ideas pertain to.

The pounding on the door gets louder. Hawkins rises from where he’s sitting on the edge of his bed with graceful ease and pads over to the door. He takes his time walking across the wooden floors of his room; no need to rush the inevitable. The loud knocking comes again, fists hitting the door hard enough to make the heavy wood rattle, and Hawkins rolls his with a scoff. Apoo is such an impatient person. Why is he being so frantic when their destinies are already sealed with a wax stamp? 

“Hawkins! Hawkins, we need to talk!” And now, yelling. Apoo’s loud voice grates on Hawkins nerves to no end. The Longarm should consider himself grateful for not having annoyed Hawkins so much that the tarot reader completely disregarded his advances.

In a sharp, smooth movement, Hawkins swings the door open and dodges the fist the was just about to roughly, heavily pound on the door yet again, only to find that the resistance the door provides isn’t there anymore. He isn’t even phased by the hand that he just barely moves out of the way of, but Apoo is surprised by the sudden opening of the door. The taller captain’s arm remains where it is, clenched fist right beside Hawkins’ ear, as he tries to process what’s happening. Truth be told, Apoo hadn’t expected Hawkins to open the door at all, had expected Hawkins to simply ignore him until Apoo went away. Though Apoo wouldn’t have gone away; he probably would’ve waited by the door until morning light, maybe longer.

Hawkins’ gaze is a dangerous combination of heated and frozen as he looks over the other captain’s appearance. A low huff of aggravated breath passes through his lips as Apoo blinks at him in surprise. Slowly, the hand beside Hawkins’ head lowers itself back to Apoo’s side as the taller man loudly announces, “Hawkins, we need to talk. _ Now.” _ Apoo’s gaze is steady and full of heat as he meets Hawkins’ eyes.

“How unfortunate for you. I do not feel like talking tonight.” The cool voice responds as Hawkins returns the gaze evenly.

Apoo sputters as he reels back in surprise, his expression turning into one of anger. “Well then why did you answer the-?!”

The blond raises a hand to cover Apoo’s mouth, even though his hand doesn’t quite reach both corners of the taller pirate’s lips. Apoo closes his mouth, lips pursing tight to form a crooked grimace. “Be quiet, Apoo,” Hawkins interrupts shortly, already feeling irritation build up in his veins. “We will not be talking much tonight.” Then the blond man steps to the side and pulls his hand away from Apoo’s face before nodding towards the inside of his room, gesturing for Apoo to come inside.

“Whatcha mean we mean we won’t be talking? Isn’t that why you invited me in?” Confusion takes over Apoo’s features even as he follows Hawkins’ command and steps into the dark bedroom. He notices that the only lights are coming from candles on Hawkins’ desk, bedside table, and dresser. Hawkins’ bed is directly in his line of sight, the dark covers contrasting with the bright white-yellow light from the candles. Behind him, he hears Hawkins close and lock the door, and it nearly makes him jump. He turns to look at the other man to find that Hawkins is already walking around him and red eyes meet his own. Apoo stands still, eyebrows pulled together in confusion, as he watches as Hawkins comes to a stop in front of him, their toes almost overlapping.

Hawkins has to look up to look Apoo in the eye, but their difference in height gives Apoo no illusion of being the one in charge of the situation. The On Air Pirate doesn’t move, other than allowing his eyes to freely look over Hawkins. He looks as attractive as ever, despite the bags under his eyes and the way his skin has become slightly paler since joining Kaidou’s crew. His hair is still long and soft-looking, his eyes still hellfire red, his movements still sharp and deadly and art in motion. So distracted by the beauty of the man he loves, by the way Hawkins lips begin to move in their subtle movements, Apoo nearly doesn’t notice that Hawkins is speaking again.

“What I mean, Scratchmen, is that I don’t particularly like talking,” Hawkins says, his voice low and deep and perfect, a bass guitar or the deeper notes of a pipe organ. His eyes don’t stray from Apoo’s, even as he reaches up to pull the metal armlet from off his own upper shoulder. He doesn’t even look at the armor as he sets it down on the desk beside them. “More than that, I don’t want to hear you talking, either. What I want," Hawkins continues slowly as his hands move away from his armor and towards Apoo’s face, “Is to_ see.” _

The taller of the two pirates doesn’t flinch when he feels hands on the side of his hat, all of his focus still on watching and listening to Hawkins. “‘To see?’ Hawkins, you’re not making any sense.” Apoo says, his eyes moving away from Hawkins’ face only to watch as the other pirate lifts Apoo’s hat and headphones from his head and sets it on the table next to his armor. 

Hawkins is careful as he sets the headphones on the table, more careful than Apoo deserves. He decides not to linger on how gentle he’s being and instead turns back to Apoo, his lips twitching up into the faintest fraction of a smirk. “Apoo, you can profess your love for me all you want, in any way you want, but I will not believe you until you can prove it.” Hawkins’ voice takes on a hint - a barely there hint - of amusement towards the end of the statement.

Apoo’s confused expression twitches upward into an unsure smile as he watches Hawkins reach up and pull the sunglasses off the bridge of Apoo’s nose in a refined movement. “Apapa,” Apoo laughs, only slightly nervous as he watches Hawkins fold the sides of the sunglasses before setting them on the desk with the rest of their possessions. “You say that like that explains everything, but I’m still confused,” The On Air Pirate admits, more than a little thrown off by the actions and words of his love interest. “Can’t you just tell me what you want in plain words?”

That sly smirk on Hawkins’ lips drops back into a slightly annoyed expression as he rolls his eyes. He reaches up, reaching up to Apoo’s head and then behind it to grab onto Apoo’s intricately styled hair before pulling it over Apoo’s shoulder and giving it a yank so the taller pirate is forced to lean down with a yelp. Their faces are hardly more than a four arm's length away when the tarot reader speaks. “What I’m telling you is that, despite all your pretty words, I haven’t seen you do a single thing to prove your ‘love’ to me. Tonight, I am giving you one - _ one _ \- chance to prove to me that what you’re saying is true,” Hawkins explains, his deep voice growing gravelly with his words. He pulls on Apoo’s hair again, forcing Apoo to move closer until they are mere inches apart. “Did I explain that well enough for you?”

Apoo’s breath hitches and his eyes go wide as he watches the way Hawkins’ expression shifts into one of smug pleasure at Apoo’s reaction. The next words out of Apoo’s mouth are too choked and spluttered to make any sense of, and the speechlessness makes Hawkins chuckle, a deep, smooth sound that was the polar opposite of the terrible, scratched noise that Apoo let out.

At a lack of verbal response - besides that terrible, ear-splitting noise - from Apoo, Hawkins lets out a low huff of laughter, a barely there sound, as his fingers continue toying with Apoo’s long hair. “You did not answer my question, Apoo,” Hawkins says, his smirk returning to his pale lips once again. The tips of their noses are barely not touching. “Did I explain that well enough, or should I put it in clearer words for you?” Hawkins asks, his deadpan voice holding a clear taunt.

There’s a sharp inhale pulled in between Apoo’s teeth, a sound like a harmonica. “I-I think you might need to put it in clearer words,” He wheezes weakly as he watches Hawkins’ fingers elegantly wrap around the heavy ornaments that hold Apoo’s hair back in it’s usual style. “I’m not sure I’m quite sure on what you’re telling me.” 

The shorter captain pulls the first bead from Apoo’s hair with no trouble. His smirk twitches upwards for just a moment as he watches Apoo’s features as Hawkins reaches over to set the bead on his desk with the growing pile of their accessories. “Of course. I should have known that you need everything to be worded plainly for you to understand what is being said.” Again, teasing. Though he’s not being playful, so perhaps it’s mocking. Either way, Apoo doesn’t care. Another bead is smoothly pulled out of Apoo’s hair and set aside, next to the first. “What I’m telling you is that you get one night to pretend that we’re lovers. It will only be tonight, and after that, I will decide how true your feelings are and how I will act upon them.” Two more beads join Apoo’s others in their position next to Hawkins’ armor.

The words, though they are what Apoo suspected they’d be, still catch him off guard. One word in particular makes Apoo’s eyes widen. ‘Lover,” Hawkins said. The word was so intimate, so deeply personal that it surprises Apoo to hear it. Especially given how Hawkins had all but cursed Apoo’s name for even uttering the word when he last confessed to the other man. “Like lovers,” Apoo repeats, the words feeling like heaven and tasting like sugar as they pass between his lips. He hardly even notices that more beads being carefully pulled free from his hair. “Are… Are you sure about this?” He hates to question such a sublime idea, but he’s not going to participate in this strange activity if Hawkins isn’t of sound mind.

“More than sure,” Comes the calm, deep voice of the man across from Apoo. Hawkins’ hands continue pulling the beads free from Apoo’s hair with surprising ease. “Is it a favorable idea to you as well, or would you like to leave and forget this has ever happened?” But Hawkins’ fingers continue to deftly remove the ornaments from Apoo’s hair, no hesitance or pause in his actions. He already knows the other man’s answer.

Apoo nods quickly as he responds with, “Of course I want to do this. I’d have to be stupid to not want this. Apapa!” Laughter born from a mixture of relief and excitement bubbles up from Apoo’s throat. His hands, which have been lax by his sides, now come up to slide under Hawkins’ open jacket and rest on his hips, bare skin on bare skin. He has to suppress a pleased hum; it feels nice to have Hawkins in his hands again. The touch is warm, so warm and pleasant and good and Apoo knows that he better consider himself _ damn _ lucky that Hawkins is allowing him even this much.

And yet… Hawkins is going to let Apoo was going to call him his lover tonight. Apoo is one lucky bastard. Then again, Hawkins always said that he drew that one card when doing tarot readings for Apoo. The ‘Wheel of Fortune,’ if Apoo recalls correctly. And, with how things are going, he knows he remembers correctly. After all, what other card would make sense besides the Wheel Of Fortune?

A low, light laugh passes through Hawkin’s lips as he removes the last bead from Apoo’s hair, deftly dropping it onto the desk with the rest. “There was a eighty-seven percent chance that you would agree with me,” He tells Apoo with a smirk forming on his lips, just a faint curve of his mouth. 

“Only eighty-seven percent?” Apoo asks as his own crooked smile grows wider, his teeth willingly showing themselves. He’s all too happy to see Hawkins’ fingers wind around Apoo’s now loose, long hair and give a soft tug. Apoo laughs softly as his forehead leans against Hawkins’ own. “I thought it would be higher than that,” He admits as he slides his hands to Hawkins’ lower back. He wraps his arms around Hawkins’ hips, drawing the blond pirate closer to him.

Hawkins allows the motion, stepping closer to stand toe-to-toe with Apoo. “It was higher, but I’m trying to let you have some dignity.” Hawkins’ fingers continue playing with Apoo’s hair, tugging on it occasionally. “After all, I could tell you that it was actually ninety-nine percent chance, and if I were to make an error, it would have only been a one percent difference. With a range between ninety-eight and one hundred percent, this outcome was practically guaranteed,” Hawkins informs Apoo, his words emphasized with a low chuckle. 

“Apapapa!” Apoo laughs as he nods, the loud noise filling up the room easily. _ “That _sounds more like me!” His words are less of a confession and more of an agreement that very clearly tells Hawkins that the tarot reader has all the power in this situation. 

“It truly does,” Hawkins agrees before purposefully falling silent as he sees Apoo’s eyes flicker down to his lips. Apoo’s gaze lingers on his mouth, and Hawkins subtly, slowly, lets his tongue paint over his upper lip. The other captain’s eyes unblinkingly follow the motion without realizing that Apoo is even doing it. When Hawkins’ tongue reaches the corner of his mouth opposite of where it started, Hawkins can feel the upturn of his smirk. “Something catch your eye, Scratchmen?” He asks, one set of triangles above his eyes arching in mock curiosity. 

Apoo nods, eves never leaving Hawkins’ mouth. The slow movement showing just how distracted he is by Hawkins, and it makes the blond pirate laugh again. No noise comes from his mouth even as his lips form the word, ‘Yes.’ 

Again, a chuckle comes from deep in Hawkins’ chest as his nose brushes against Apoo’s. “So I’ve noticed,” He remarks slyly. He gives another tug on Apoo’s hair, this one sharper than the last few, drawing a sharp inhale from the On Air Pirate. The noise makes him grin, a small, cunning thing, before his deep voice announces, “Our night begins now, Apoo.” And just as Apoo’s eyes go wide, Hawkins pushes himself up and connects his lips with the taller pirate’s in an almost chaste kiss. Almost chaste, but the heated implication behind the kiss gives it more than a little reason to say that it isn’t chaste.

So stunned by the announcement and the sudden action, Apoo doesn’t return the kiss, too busy blinking in surprise. Just as he finally regains his senses, Hawkins pulls back, a smug expression on his lips and twinkling in his eyes. “Hm. And here I thought you could do better than that. What a shame. Perhaps we should call it an early night and do this another time?”

Apoo doesn’t even respond with words, instead just pulls Hawkins’ body closer and presses their lips together again. It’s not a smooth movement, a messy clash due to the different shapes of their mouths, but Apoo revels in the contact anyway. He presses harder, only to feel a light chuckle pressed against his lips. The laughter doesn’t make Apoo relent; if anything, he only becomes more determined. He tilts his head slightly, aiming to find the angle that will make this as good as possible for the both of them. Evidently, the right angle isn’t hard to find, as Hawkins lets a small, pleased hum press itself against Apoo’s lips when Apoo tilts his head in a certain way.

Hawkins hands move up from Apoo’s hair to cradle the back of the Longarm’s head, his fingers pressed against the area that connects Apoo’s skull and upper vertebrae. He allows Apoo to lead the kiss at first, letting the musician set the rhythm. And Apoo doesn’t do bad - not in the least. His lips aren’t chapped or overly dry. He knows what angle works best for the shape of their mouths. His hands know where to rest and how to hold the tarot reader. If there is one thing Hawkins could complain about, it’s that Apoo applies just a little more pressure than necessary. But Hawkins knows that the extra little bit of force that Apoo uses is from desperation and need rather than the want to dominate the blond. This is proven by the small not-quite-a-whine that bubbles up from Apoo’s throat.

Much to Apoo’s surprise, it’s Hawkins who lets his tongue swipe at the crooked crevice of Apoo’s lips. The soft, wet muscle slowly slides against Apoo’s lower lip, coquettish and seductive and inviting. When Apoo parts his lips for Hawkins, the other man’s tongue cleverly presses inside the warmth of Apoo’s mouth. He licks along the taller pirate’s teeth, drawing a sound like a messy song from Apoo’s mouth. The sound draws a chuckle from Hawkins, but the noise quickly fades once Apoo’s tongue slides against Hawkins’ own before cleverly slipping into Hawkins mouth.

Hawkins is far from surprised by the action, but he is pleased by Apoo’s boldness; Hawkins doesn’t want Apoo to be shy about this. The On Air Captain isn’t shy about anything else, and if he were to be timid when he says those supposed-to-be beautiful words, Hawkins would curse him for being false about his declarations of love.

Their tongues curl together one last time before Hawkins slowly pulls back, letting his teeth scrape along Apoo’s tongue before they truly separate. The action draws a soft but sharp inhale from Apoo, who stares wide-eyed at Hawkins as a breathless grin tugs at the edges of his mouth. Hawkins grins back, sly and cunning but not as wicked as he could be. 

“That was not unpleasant,” Hawkins remarks with a slightly amused tone to his usually monotone voice. His fingers are still in Apoo’s hair, his palms cupping the back of Apoo’s head. He’s standing on his balls of his feet, but his body doesn’t show the strain from the effort. He doesn’t even seem to feel it. “You certainly did better the second time around.” Another jest at Apoo, this one playful, in its own way.

Apoo lets out a low laugh, trying to watch his volume because of the close distance between him and Hawkins. “Apapapa! I should hope so!” He replies, his smile only growing wider as his shoulders relax. “You really caught me off guard that first one. You know, I think you’re probably one of the only people that can do that.” His arms grow tighter around Hawkins, bringing the blond pirate flush against his chest. He smiles down at Hawkins again, his hands rubbing against the Magician’s hips as his forearms rest against Hawkins’ lower back.

“I could say the same about you,” Hawkins replies. He has to push the thoughts of Apoo’s betrayal out of his mind; that isn’t what tonight is about. Though, in a way, it’s _ exactly _ what tonight is about. Apoo did form their alliance and trick Hawkins into joining Kaido’s crew all because he claims to love Hawkins. The very thought sends a rush of hot rage through his spinal cord and into his skull. His fingers curl tightly in Apoo’s hair, and he considers sliding his hands down just a bit and taking Apoo’s neck in them, his palms against the other pirate’s throat, and snapping the very important things inside of Apoo that keep him alive. 

He considers it, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just pulls on Apoo’s hair, forcing the musician to tilt his head back. Apoo’s lets out a small grunt, but he doesn’t fight Hawkins’ hands. The shorter pirate watches how Apoo forces himself to relax in such a vulnerable position, watches how Apoo works to even out his breathing and relax the muscles in his neck. From this angle, Hawkins can almost see Apoo’s carotid artery pounding away just under his skin. 

So easy… It would be so easy to kill Apoo right now, to end his existence for good.

Hawkins pushes himself up onto his toes and leans forward.

So very easy.

He parts his lips, baring his teeth ever so slightly.

It would only take a half of a second.

And then Hawkins gives a gentle nip to the sensitive column of Apoo’s throat. Just a slight scrape of teeth against skin. Gentle, almost. Tender, in a pirate’s way. Then Hawkins soothes the red skin with a soft kiss, chaste and delicate and light as a breeze. His lips leave Roar of the Sea’s skin with a soft sound and Hawkins’ hands slowly release their tight grip on Apoo’s hair. He pulls back enough to look up at the On Air Pirate, watching to see Apoo’s reaction. He can’t help the grin blossoms on his lips like a flower in the sun. Ironic, then, that his smile is more of a dangerous plant. A pinguicula, perhaps; a flower in appearances only, but a carnivorous trap for any foolish prey or lovestruck observer.

As Hawkins’ hands loosen their hold on Apoo’s hair, the taller pirate lets out an exhale of relief as he slowly lowers his head back down. Evidently, he must’ve felt the burst of killing intent from Hawkins, because his hands are shaking ever so slightly from where they hold tight to the shorter pirate’s hips. Brown and red eyes meet and Apoo can’t help but let out a relieved laugh as he feels Hawkins’ hands slide forward to cup the musician’s jaw. “Apapa! You totally thought about killing me just then, didn’t you?” Apoo asks, though even he knows that his words hold the truth.

A low laugh passes through the Magician’s lips, the sound deep and clear and from deep in his chest. “Perhaps I did,” He responds as his thumb swipes over Apoo’s lips. His wry grin twitches up at the edges when the feels Apoo press a playful kiss to the pad of Hawkins’ thumb.

“But you didn’t.” Apoo’s smile is wide but soft, and his hands have stopped shaking. “You chose not to kill me. You want me alive more than you want me dead.” People may say what they will about Scratchmen Apoo, but they could never truly know how smart he is. It’s one thing about Apoo that Hawkins can’t deny his appreciation for.

Hawkins rolls his eyes as he presses his thumb over Apoo’s lips again, this time to shut the taller man up. “For now,” He says with a hint of teasing in his voice. “But is what you want right now to talk, or to prove your bold words with your actions?” One set of triangle tattoos over a red eye arches curiously as Hawkins’ hands slide down from Apoo’s chest to the sash around his hips. His fingers dip under the edge of the fabris, so close to pulling out the knot in the fabric, but not quite. A promise, an invitation, and a challenge all in one.

Apoo’s hands move as well, fingers deftly moving to the pelt that rest low around Hawkins’ hips as the musician smirks back at the tarot reader. “I think I’ll take a page from your book and say that I’d rather do something _ more _ than talk.” His long fingers carefully pull the metal chain free from Hawkins’ belt before Apoo sets the jewelry onto the desk, next to his own hair ornaments. “You know, if it’s fine by you that I’m stealing your moves. Apapapapa!” He laughs, earning a roll of Hawkins’ eyes at the joke. His hands move back to Hawkins’ hips to work on getting the pelt to join the growing pile of stripped pieces of outfits. 

Nimble fingers undo the sash around Apoo’s hips, loosening the knot in the fabric before slowly undoing it and pulling it away from Apoo’s body in a slow, sensual movement. “For tonight, I don’t think I will mind.” Both pairs of eyes remain locked as Hawkins folds up the long strip of fabric once, twice, before laying it over the back of the desk’s chair. His hands move next to Apoo’s chest, working on the fastenings of Apoo’s clothes. “Just remember that my moves shouldn’t be the only moves I see tonight,” He quips lowly, a taunting gleam in his eyes.

The Roar of the Sea laughs and shakes his head fondly as Hawkins’ pelt is laid over the back of the chair. “Don’t worry your pretty head, Hawkins,” Apoo replies as his hands make quick work of the last sash around the Magician’s hips, “I’ll show you everything you need to see to know that I’m telling the truth.” He winks at Hawkins, but his smile is something less playful and more genuine. He lays the sash next to the fur pelt on the chair and allows his hands to move back under the long jacket to bracket Hawkins’ waist with his hands. “I’ll show you all of it.”

The words are strange; they send a certain spark through Hawkins’ nerves. Not a bad spark, not a good spark, just a certain curiosity. What does Apoo mean by ‘all of it?’ Hawkins wants to ask, but he knows that he will find out in due time. So he simply continues to work on the fastenings, his eyes moving between looking at what his hands are doing and looking back up at Apoo to see the Longarm’s reaction. “I should hope so,” He says, though he isn’t sure what he himself means. However, the way Apoo’s smile widens in reaction to Hawkins’ words makes the shorter pirate think that he said exactly what Apoo wants to hear. 

Apoo’s rough but gentle hands move up from Hawkins’ waist to his ribcage, feeling the movements of inhales and exhales from the way the ribs expand and contract. In, and out. In, and out. Strong, steady, and even. Unfazed by the current events. Apoo wants that to change. Leaning down a bit, Apoo is careful to not get in the way of Hawkins’ hands as the tarot reader works his clothes undone as Apoo tenderly tucks blonde hair behind the other pirate’s ear. He leans in closer and gives a gentle nip to the shell of Hawkins’ ear. His hands slide up just a little more, his palms just under Hawkins’ pectorals so Apoo’s thumbs can teasingly brush over dusky nipples.

The reaction Hawkins gives Apoo is less than the Longarm is hoping for, but more than he expects. All Hawkins offers is a soft exhale that borders on a huff of laughter as his hands move to the last of the fastenings. As he finally undoes the other man’s clothing, he lets Apoo nip at the shell of his ear and rub his thumbs over his nipples, which are slowly pebbling under the sensual ministrations. Hawkins even tilts his head just a little to give Apoo a better angle, a kindness that he decides to offer his one-night-lover. 

When Apoo speaks, he has to force himself to murmur so he didn’t speak too loud and ruin the mood. “You’re a lot warmer than I thought you’d be,” He remarks as quietly as he can, giving a soft squeeze of his hands around the blond’s ribcage. He smiles against the skin just under Hawkins’ ear, burying his face there as he uses his thumbs to roll the now pert buds. “It’s nice.”

“I suppose I am glad for that,” The blond responds. Hawkins’ hands take hold of the fabric that is now loose enough that it parts and reveal a sliver of Apoo’s upper chest. Even from what little Hawkins could see of Apoo’s bared body, he can tell that, despite how his devil fruit abilities have changed him, Apoo’s body is still relatively normal. He’s strong and broad, yes, but not incredibly strange. Not _ incredibly. _ As Apoo continues to nip at Hawkins’ earlobe, the hands holding onto the musician’s clothing beginning to slowly push them aside, over Apoo’s shoulders, only to have it get caught on the crooks of the elbows between Apoo’s upper- and mid-arms.

Having too much fun with what was just the beginning of learning Hawkins’ body, Apoo ignores the feeling of his clothes bunching at his elbows. He doesn’t want to let go of the focus of his affections. Instead, he nips at the area where Hawkins’ jaw and neck meet, purposefully not saying anything in regards to his own clothing in hopes that Hawkins will either not bother to remove the garment any farther or will find a way to magically remove it without Apoo having to move his hands.

“Apoo,” Hawkins calmly says, giving another tug on the clothing to wordlessly tell the other pirate what he wants. He receives no verbal response, just the feeling of clever fingers rolling his nipples in a way that sends a dull heat spreading through his chest. The sensation draws an exhale, one that borders on breathless, from somewhere in Hawkins’ throat and into the small space between them. Hawkins ignores the noise as he repeats, “Apoo. You need to let go of me for a moment.”

But Apoo doesn’t move back, just presses his lips against Hawkins’ throat in a heated kiss as his hands give a small tug on the buds between fingers. That small, almost-not-there noise was beautiful, the first note of the most beautiful melody that Apoo had longed for months upon years to hear. It would be a lie to say that he was anything less than desperate to hear the rest of the song.

There’s a disapproving click of tongue against teeth before Hawkins removes one hand from the crook of Apoo’s elbow. He brings it up to cover the other captain’s mouth, preventing Apoo from continuing to map out Hawkin’s neck with his mouth. When the musician leans back to look and pout piteously, Hawkins only rolls his eyes and scoffs and takes a step away from Apoo, which makes him groan in light annoyance. Hawkins keeps his hand over Apoo’s mouth as he speaks. “Apoo, would you really be so rude as to not let your lover undress you?” He asks with disapproval tinting his voice as his lips pull down in a frown. “How selfish.”

It’s hard to tell whether it’s the look on Hawkins’ face or the words he says that make Apoo wince, but it’s certainly one or both. His posture sinks a bit, hands falling away from Hawkins’ body as he lets out a sigh and a muffled, “S’rry.” Hawkins nods in approval before removing his hand from the other man’s face. Apoo reaches up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. He looks at Hawkins with a certain combination of fondness and embarrassment. “I’ve just wanted to touch you like this for so long, and I don’t want to have to stop.”

Hawkins fixes Apoo with a deadpan look as he begins working the piece of clothing off of Apoo’s body. “Well that is clear,” He remarks bluntly. “But you need to learn some manners and allow me to have my fun as well.” The Longarm immediately nods in agreement and Hawkins’ lips twitch upwards faintly at the control he has over the other pirate. “Good.” 

Now that Apoo’s hands aren’t busy learning Hawkins’ body, the blond pirate is able to push Apoo’s clothing down over his mid-arms, forearms, and hands. The garment is folded up neatly and set on the desk before the Magician finally turns back to Apoo, his lips fixed in a small, satisfied smile. “That’s much better,” He says, a growing heat in his voice as he looks over the strong body that was his to explore for the night.

Broad and well-muscled, it’s clear that Apoo trains as much as any pirate of the Worst Generation. His body is built based on his devil fruit abilities and it shows in the thickness of his of his muscles and the shape of his bones. He’s not handsome in a conventional sense, but Hawkins couldn’t care less about that. Conventional beauty has never been his style anyway.

Hawkins’ eyes move back up to Apoo’s face to find that the Roar of the Sea is watching him intently and with no shame. His gaze meets Hawkins’ and his smile twitches up into a smirk. “See something you like?” He asks cheekily, winking at the shorter pirate and gesturing to his own body with a sweep of his hands.

What Apoo gets as a reaction is not what he expects. Hawkins’ eyes give Apoo’s body another quick once over before Hawkins’ lips twitch upwards. “Perhaps I do,” He replies as he steps forward once, taking his previous spot of being mere inches from Apoo. The same position, yes, but now everything feels different. It must be all the exposed skin between them, but silence washes over them as their eyes focus on each other’s body, the air growing thick and heavy in their lungs as they consider their next moves carefully.

Slowly, Hawkins lifts his hands up and lets them rest on Apoo’s nape. Even that small, feather-light contact makes the taller pirate jerk, and Hawkins chuckles as his fingertips glide leisurely over the line of Apoo’s shoulders. Apoo barely restrains a shiver at the feeling. It’s the lightness of Hawkins’ touch that warrants such a reaction. Apoo had thought Hawkins would be rougher, and his gentleness is making the On Air Pirate feel responsive to his touch.

Nimble hands come to a stop on Apoo’s upper arms, fingers curling around his deltoids as Hawkins pushes himself up onto the balls of his feet. It doesn’t take a thought to know what Hawkins wants, and Apoo easily complies with the silent order by leaning down and moving his hands to rest on Hawkins’ hips once again. 

Their lips meet, a soft touch made better by the fact that they both know how their mouths best fit together. Their movements are slow and tender as Apoo lets a soft hum be pulled from so deep in his lungs it feels more like it comes from his heart. He parts his lips and Hawkins takes the chance to lick his way into Apoo’s mouth, the tip of his tongue rubbing across the musician’s.

As their tongues become familiar once again, Apoo’s hands move slowly up towards Hawkins’ shoulders and take hold of the edges of the tarot reader’s long jacket. He gives a soft pull on the fabric, playfully mimicking Hawkins’ earlier actions back at him. His actions don’t need to be repeated because Hawkins lets his arms slide free from their position on Apoo’s shoulders to his own sides. Hawkins isn’t going to let Apoo take the chance to call him selfish.

This time, Apoo is the first to pull back from their kiss, his lips pulling into mischievous grin as he takes in the sight of Hawkins. The tarot reader’s lips slightly pinker and cheeks just barely beginning to flush a faint shade of pink that reminds the Longarm of the rose quartz crystals he saw on Hawkins’ desk. The warm colors only compliment the red of Hawkins’ eyes, the blood-red irises accented fantastically by the rushes of blood against pale skin. “Damn,” Apoo says softly, wonder and breathlessness filling the word. “You look good.” 

With Hawkins’ arms down by his sides, it’s easy to slip the jacket off of Hawkins. The heels of Apoo’s hands brush against the warmth of Hawkins’ skin as he slides the dark fabric away from his shoulders and down his arms is a slow motion. Finally, the jacket slides over Hawkins’ hands and Apoo quickly sets it to the side, not bothering to fold it like Hawkins had done with Apoo’s clothing. 

The taller pirate turns back to Hawkins to find that he’s rolling his eyes. Unabashedly, Apoo grins and shrugs as his hands find their way back to Hawkins’ hips. “What? I’m too excited to waste time on folding clothes!” He says without a hint of shame before he lets his eyes glance over Hawkins’ body again.

Hawkins is certainly strong, much stronger than most would guess given his epithet of ‘Magician.’ But Apoo has many times seen Hawkins’ strength displayed in full. He’s seen how hard Hawkins trains, how willing he is to push himself to the limit and even further, how the tarot reader has continued to grow and hone his skills. No scars on his chest, a sign that no one has been able to injure the Magician head on in a way that could scar him. Hawkins is known and feared for good reason, and Apoo can attest that Hawkins’ body is a perfect reflection of that. 

“Do you plan to just stand here like this all night, Apoo? Or would you prefer that we keep going?” Hawkins asks as he moves his own hands to rest against Apoo’s lower abdomen, the sides of his hands just beginning to move under the hem of the taller pirate’s pants. The look on his face is sly, his lips quirking up in a smirk. His thumbs rub half-circles against the defined muscles of Apoo’s abs.

“Apapapa!” Apoo laughs as he ducks his head down to playfully rub his nose against Hawkins’ jawline. “Just give me a second to admire the view, would you? You look so good right now.” His words fade into silence as Apoo begins pressing more kisses and nips to the column of Hawkins’ throat. 

A low chuckle reverberates from Hawkins’ chest as he edges his fingers under the fabric of Apoo’s pants. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Apoo. I have no need sugared words.” Still, his smile doesn’t falter and he doesn’t remove his hands from where his fingers lightly press into Apoo’s skin. “I’ll encourage you to keep that in mind as we continue tonight.” Hawkins hands begin to inch down, slyly dipping into Apoo’s pants. He doesn’t push under the fabric of Apoo’s underwear yet, instead just letting his fingers slowly trail down further.

A soft exhale interrupts the trail of kisses being pressed to Hawkins’ neck. _ “You _ may not need them,” Apoo says, lips still moving against the tarot reader’s skin, “But _ I _ do.” Another heated kiss, one that’s anything but chaste, is pressed to the area where Hawkins’ neck and shoulder meet. “I’ve waited for so long to tell you all this. Couldn’t you just let me say what I want to?” Apoo’s words hold just the slightest bit of needy desperation as his own hands move further back to cup Hawkins’ ass. “Let me treat you as a lover should.”

The feeling of Apoo’s hands on his ass makes Hawkins’ lips part in a soft exhale before he rolls his eyes and allows the faintest of smiles onto his lips. He only smiles because he knows Apoo can’t see it. “So you need to keep talking?” He asks as his fingers finally brush over the hardening bulge in Apoo’s pants, feeling the musician’s cock twitch in response to the touch and hearing a soft grunt from just below his ear. The grin on Hawkins’ lips grows at the corners. “That makes sense,” Hawkins continues, “As I have never known you as the quiet type. You must have thought these words so often that they are all but engraved on your tongue.” One of Hawkins’ palms begins to slowly rub along Apoo’s length while the other moves further down to fondle his balls.

“Hah-” A shudder suns through Apoo’s body and his breathing comes shallow and hot against Hawkins’ neck as the Longarm’s cock grows harder from Hawkins’ touch. “Sh-it, Hawkins!” He swears, unable to even fathom forming a response to Hawkins’ teasing. He tries to restrain his hips from pushing into Hawkins’ hands, but he can’t help it. The Magician’s hands are amazing, tantalizingly slow in their motions, though they apply just the right amount of pressure. “You- Shit- Your hands are so good, so fucking good,” He murmurs breathlessly into Hawkins’ skin before letting his teeth dig into Hawkins’ throat, trying to make the tarot reader come as undone as Apoo himself is.

“Nh-!” The noise that Apoo’s actions pull from Hawkins’ throat is quiet - hardly audible at all - but it’s genuine and _ raw. _ His hands pause in their actions and Hawkins’ breath catches in his throat for just a moment before his breath is released in a controlled exhale. “I’ll admit, your mouth is more skilled than I am prepared for. You may have an upper hand in that area.”

Apoo scoffs as he pulls back to look Hawkins’ in the eye. “‘An upper hand?’” He repeats slowly before shaking his head slowly. “Hawkins, that’s not how love works. There’s no ‘having the upper hand’ in a loving relationship.” He finishes his words with a crooked grin before leaning in to steal a kiss from Hawkins’ lips.

The blond man easily returns the kiss, a soft, chaste contact that belongs to a relationship much sweeter than theirs. When they part, it’s slow and their eyes meet again as gentle smiles form on their lips. “Hm,” Hawkins hums thoughtfully as he slowly rubs his thumb over the tip of Apoo’s clothed erection. “Perhaps you may know something about love after all.” His words aren’t teasing, but a genuine statement of pleased surprise instead. 

“Mm…” Apoo lets a soft noise a pleasure fall from hips lips before his smile grows and he says, “Well, after I first saw you, I got inspired to do some research. Read some books, ask some questions, relisten to every love song I know. You know, the normal things.” Apoo chuckles at his own joke as his own hands push under the hem of Hawkins’ pants so his fingers are pressed against the area just below the dimples in Hawkins’ lower back. “Just figured that if I’m bound to love you, I’m going to do it right.” He shrugs before another low moan bubbles up from his throat as Hawkins gives a gentle squeeze around the base of Apoo’s cock.

Hawkins’ chuckles, but goosebumps are raising on his skin as he feels Apoo’s hands sliding lower, thick fingertips brushing over the swell of his ass. “I suppose I should give you some credit for trying to improve yourself. You’re putting in more effort than I thought you would.” The tarot reader’s hands continue to slowly, teasingly, stroke and fondle Apoo as Hawkins’ own member grows hard in his pants, tenting them noticeably. 

Apoo laughs, the sound breathless and all too fond. “What can I say? You’re worth all the effort.” He leans down once again and places a soft kiss on Hawkins’ cheek. Damn, but Apoo never thought that such a simple action would make him so happy, but here he is. “You’re worth _ everything, _Hawkins,” Apoo mutters breathlessly as his lips find their way back to Hawkins’. As their mouths move together with a growing familiarity, his hands continue sliding lower down Hawkins’ body until he cups Hawkins’ ass in his palms.

The slow, sensual kiss is returned equally, Hawkins’ lips applying the same amount of pressure as he speeds up his strokes on Apoo’s cock. This night is proving to be surprisingly more enjoyable than the tarot reader had previously thought it would be. Each time Apoo speaks, Hawkins becomes more and more convinced that musician’s love towards him is true. Hawkins is not the type to fall for false words, and he’s beginning to see now that Apoo’s aren’t false. 

It’s Hawkins who pulls back first, a pleased smile on his lips as he looks up at the Roar of the Sea and chuckles. “Perhaps we should take this to my bed, rather than end up rutting against each other and cumming in our pants like cabin boys?” 

His suggestion is taken up eagerly by Apoo, who smiles back in return and nods. “That sounds like a much better option.” Both men pull their hands back to themselves - rather reluctantly - before stripping themselves of their pants and undergarments. They let these fall to the ground, too busy to reunite with each other to bother folding them like they had done with the rest of their clothes. It takes mere seconds before their task is finished and they turn back to each other.

When Apoo’s eyes catch sight of Hawkins’ unclothed, completely bared body, the air leaves his lungs in a wordless exhale of the Magician’s name. The shorter pirate is stunning, a masterpiece that Apoo could write hymns about for decades without growing tired or needing another muse. Hawkins’ body is that of a swordsman, though it’s very clear he was born to be something less volatile in nature. The frame of his body is lean - still strong, but lean - and nimble, but his muscles were clearly not his birthright; he earned the weight of his muscles through rigorous training and necessary evils and trials that would have left lesser men dead. Hawkins’ body was meant to be so much weaker than it is, and Apoo nearly laughs in the face of that thought. As if even the forces of nature could have kept Hawkins from his goals. If this had been a different moment, perhaps Apoo would have thought to ask if Hawkins’ beloved concept of ‘fate’ had changed the course that Hawkins had clearly been set on at birth.

But it’s not different moment, and at the current point in time, Apoo is too busy trying to think of what his next words will be. Fortunately for him, they come easy. His lips pull into a crooked, natural grin as he serenely tells Hawkins, “I’m beginning to rethink comparing you to flowers in all of my love songs. The metaphor just doesn’t feel right anymore.”

Hawkins’ quirks a not-eyebrow at Apoo’s seemingly random statement. “... Your words raise several questions, Apoo.” The blond pirate steps closer to Apoo, the motion graceful and elegant despite the fact that Hawkins’ member is completely exposed, red-tipped bobbing lewly with each footfall. “The first of which being as to why flowers? Is there something about me that reminds you of the delicateness of flowers?” The question is spoken sharply, but Hawkins’ lips quirk up into a teasing smirk rather than a scowl.

Apoo doesn’t move, staying still as he watches Hawkins steps closer and lays a hand on Apoo’s chest. The taller pirate chuckles as he raises a hand and lays it over Hawkins’, holding it to his chest as his other hand comes to rest on Hawkins’ hip. “It’s not so much how delicate they are, but how beautiful they are,” He explains unabashedly as his thumb rubs over the line of Hawkins’ hipbone. “You’re beautiful, and I think my reasoning for connecting you to flowers is pretty obvious.”

“I suppose that explains it,” Hawkins replies as his other hand reaches up to cup Apoo’s jaw in his hand. Broad, as is all of Apoo. Even Apoo’s chest is heavily muscled under Hawkins’ hand, bulky muscles clearly genetic, but their effect enhanced by both Apoo’s natural barrel chest as well as being in several battles and many more fights. “But that brings about the matter of my second question.” His fingers guide the musician’s face so Apoo has to look Hawkins’ in the eyes as Hawkins lets out a deep laugh. “Why have your songs grown so cliche as to compare your beloved to flowers?”

Another laugh meets Hawkins’ in return. “Apapa! ‘Why?’ Well, ever looked in the mirror and seen your eyes? Just like red roses. And you can’t blame me for all the people who compare their lovers to something so perfect when their lovers don’t even come close to having that same beauty.” Apoo laughs and softly squeezes Hawkins’ hip.

“Hn. No, I suppose I can’t,” Hawkins replies as his smirk melts into a faint but sensual smile. “We should move to the bed before we take this any further. I would prefer that we be on a bed when we make love, as the floor is rather uncomfortable.” Hawkins words are a dry sort of humor that Apoo has come to appreciate, and it makes both of them chuckle softly.

Apoo raises his hand from the Magician’s hip to gently brush long hair behind Hawkins’ ear. “That sounds wonderful to me,” He replies simply, but before he can take a step towards the bed, Hawkins pulls Apoo into another kiss. This one is lingering, heated, and their tongues move together easily, curling around each other in a way that’s much more tender than any contact between the men have had before this day. Hawkins’ hand on Apoo’s jaw only helps the tarot reader to deepen the kiss, and it makes a pleased noise bubble up from Apoo’s throat.

When they pull apart, Apoo grins cheekily at Hawkins, who immediately rolls his eyes at the other man. Apoo doesn’t care, however, and leans down to nip at Hawkins’ jaw. “So,” He asks, lips brushing over Hawkins’ skin as he speaks, “Are we gonna do this now? Are you finally going to let me take you to bed?” He asks excitedly as he reaches down and wraps his hand around the base of Hawkins’ cock and give it a slow stroke.

“Hah,” Hawkins’ breath escapes him in a soft sigh as Apoo’s hand slowly moves up and down his cock. A huff of laughter follows in response to Apoo’s words, and red eyes shine slyly as Hawkins replies. “In this case, I believe I’m the one who is taking _ you _ to bed.”

“Apapa!” Apoo laughs as he rubs his thumb over Hawkins’ tip, smiling brighter as the shorter pirate reacts by twitching and letting out a soft moan. “Right you are, Hawkins,” He agrees, but he continues his slow, steady strokes and shows no signs of wanting to move. 

Another low, soft sigh falls from Hawkins’ parted lips as he moves his other hand to rest against Apoo’s chest next to his other one. He fixes the Roar of the Sea with a pointed look even as he holds back another moan. “Apoo, I believe I just told you, I would rather that we did this on my bed than right here,” He says slowly, his hands putting just a little pressure on Apoo’s chest, threatening to push the other man back if he doesn’t comply.

“I know, I know. You just feel so _ good _ in my hand,” Apoo says, his eyes becoming hazy with love-based lust. He gives one last stroke to Hawkins’ member before he pulls his hand away. When he looks up at Hawkins’ face, he’s more than pleased to find that Hawkins’ breathing is a bit more shallow and his lips are parted to draw in the heated air of the bedroom. Apoo smiles, an excited but soft upturn of his mouth. “Beautiful, just like I said. You’re beautiful, Hawkins.”

Hawkins’ cheeks are light pink as he offers Apoo a small, faint grin and a roll of his eyes. “I appreciate the kind words, but I have no need for them.” He takes a step back, moving towards his bed and letting his hands drop to take hold of Apoo’s. “But I have a great need for_ you,” _ Hawkins says quietly, just because he knows Apoo will have to listen harder, before he drops Apoo’s hands and walks over to his bed. He doesn’t look behind him to know that the other man will follow him; at this point in the night, he already knows that Apoo will not deny Hawkins what he wants. So Hawkins moves onto his bed, sitting on his knees as he reaches for the vial of oil on his bedside table before he turns his intense gaze to watch Apoo walk over to the bed.

Those words are in the same line as everything Apoo has wanted to hear from Hawkins from the first second he’d seen the tarot reader. They’re beautiful and said with such a cool not-quite-sweetness that Apoo completely forgets that tonight is just a fantasy, a test from Hawkins to see how genuine Apoo’s feelings are. But Apoo can’t find it in himself to care. He knows his feelings are true, and now he just has to prove it. Shouldn’t be too hard.

So he follows Hawkins to his bed, climbing on the mattress to sit in front of Hawkins. His smile is contagious, the warmth of it bringing a small grin to Hawkins’ face. “Alright, how did you want to do this?” He asks jovially as he reaches out to pluck the glass vial from Hawkins’ hands. He raises it to his face, examining the liquid contents by swirling them around in the small container.

Hawkins rolls his eyes as he elegantly takes the oil back from Apoo’s hands as he places a hand on Apoo’s shoulder. “Sit,” He orders even as he gently guides Apoo into sitting so he is propped up against the headboard. Apoo follows the commands without hesitation, a smile still on his lips. The smile grows when Hawkins moves to straddle Apoo’s thighs, putting a hand on the Longarm’s shoulder and holding the vial of lube out to Apoo with the other. “I trust that you would like to help with the preparation?” He asks calmly, one corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

“And you would be very, very right.” Apoo grins as he reaches out for the vial, only for it to be moved out of his reach. “Hey!” He pouts as he reaches for it again, before pausing. “Oh, would you rather do it? Because I’d be fine with that, if you’d rather do it. After all, it usually goes faster if you-”

“I prepared myself earlier,” Hawkins says, effectively cutting off whatever else Apoo was going to say. He puts the vial in Apoo’s hand with a cunning grin. “I simply wanted to test your restraint.”

Apoo blinks at Hawkins, then at the vial, then back to Hawkins before laughing. “Apapapa! I can’t say I’m not disappointed that I won’t be helping with that tonight, but I guess I’ll just have to work harder to prove myself, yeah?” Apoo’s question is rhetorical, and the matter-of-fact nature to it makes Hawkins smile just a little bit.

“If that’s how you choose to take my words, then yes, I suppose so,” Hawkins replies, trying not to show how much the words please him. After all, would Apoo’s feelings be true if he had said anything else? Hawkins watches as the musician opens the vial and pours a liberal amount into his palm, and he has to restrain himself from shivering as he realizes just how close they are to finally being connected in the most primal way possible.

Apoo grins in return, all loving with just a hint of mischief at the edges. “Of course that’s how I’m going to take them, when you say things like that,” He replies with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. He uses his thumb to spread the oil over his fingers as he looks up at Hawkins. His eyes are full of adoration and devotion, and when he leans forward, Hawkins meets him halfway for another slow, passionate kiss.

As their lips slide together easily, the On Air pirate reaches down, wraps his hand around his member, and begins to slick up himself up. A moan is pulled from his throat, the sound escaping through the corners of his lips as his hand slides up and down his cock. “Mnf,” Apoo’s voice sounds from between them as he leans into the kiss a bit more, his tongue sliding against Hawkins’ in a slow but heated dance. God, but the two of them fit together perfectly, don’t they? Just like Apoo always knew they would. 

Hawkins’ hands move up to Apoo’s neck, his fingers tangling in long brown hair as his palms rest against heated skin. This time, his hands on Apoo’s neck don’t bring any thoughts of murder to the tarot reader’s mind. If Hawkins had realized this, he would’ve considered it a step forward. But at this moment, his mind is elsewhere. 

Their kiss lasts for what feels like not long enough, but both men need air and they reluctantly pull apart for air. Their lips are slightly darker as they take in deep inhales, trying to regain their breaths. Their eyes meet and Apoo offers Hawkins a broad, bright smile, prompting a smaller, but no less genuine grin from Hawkins. The blonde glances down at Apoo’s cock before his eyes move back to Apoo’s. “I believe that we’re ready. Would you agree?” He asks, and it’s only because Apoo is so good at identifying sounds that he can hear the slight bit of breathlessness that hides under the formal words. 

His smile grows as he nods in agreement. “I agree completely,” He responds as he lets go of his member in favor of putting his hands on Hawkins’ hips. He smiles up at the blond before leaning in to press a soft kiss to the hollow between Hawkins’ collarbones. He linger for a moment, resting his forehead against Hawkins’ throat before pulling back to look up at his beloved. “Alright, ready when you are, Hawkins,” He announces with a soft squeeze to Hawkins’ hips. 

“I’m ready now.” Hawkins smiles back as he wraps one hand around Apoo’s cock and the other moves to Apoo’s shoulder. He trusts Apoo’s hands on his hips and his own legs to help him hold his weight as he rides the musician. The two pirates exchange one last glance before Hawkins eyes glance down so he can line the thick cock up with his own entrance.

Slowly, Hawkins lowers himself down until he can feel the blunt head pressing against his hole. Thankfully, his earlier preparations are paying off, and Hawkins’ body is fairly relaxed as Apoo’s tip presses inside of his body. It takes a few moments, but Hawkins relaxes himself as much as possible and the head of Apoo’s length pushes inside of the tight ring of muscle. “Hh-!” A quiet but sharp noise escapes Hawkins’ parted lips as his hand tightly squeezes the taller pirate’s shoulder. His breathing is already picking up, but Apoo can tell that Hawkins isn’t in any pain. Hawkins always prepares for situations he knows he will be in, and will never bend to the will of another simply for their own desires; two very desirable traits that Apoo admires to no end.

Still, Apoo feels the need to ask, “You doing alright, Hawkins?” The blond man nods back slowly in response, and when he looks up at Apoo, his eyes are hazy, clouded with desire. Apoo loves that look on him. The Longarm smiles as he reaches up and tucks some of Hawkins’ hair behind his ear. “Alright, just tell me if you want to stop. You know I’ll if you want to.” Hawkins smiles and nods, still a bit breathless.

The shorter pirate continues to lower himself down slowly, drawing moans from the throats of both men. Apoo’s hands are tight on Hawkins’ hips, keeping him steady as Hawkins slowly takes more of the musician’s length inside of him. It is a slow but steady process that ends with their pelvises pressed together, Hawkins’ hands holding onto Apoo’s shoulders for support. “Shit, Hawkins,” Apoo swears between pants for breath. “Feel so good- Ngh!” A moan comes from deep in his throat as he feels Hawkins’ muscles squeezing around him, the slick heat of the tarot reader’s body so damn good around Apoo.

Hawkins lets out a breathless laugh in return. “As do you.” He takes another moment to gather himself and adjust before he wordlessly begins moving, setting a steady pace that increases in speed as well as urgency the longer their bodies are connected. 

The noises drawn from both men grow in volume as Hawkins’ lifts himself up and down on Apoo’s member. The loud sounds can only be muffled by the messy kisses they share that leave saliva and smiles on their lips. Hawkins’ movements are skilled and clever, enough to drive Apoo wild until he begins helping Hawkins’ move, pulling the blond back down onto his cock with a force that makes Hawkins’ moan the musician’s name as his back arches. Apoo isn’t in a better state, pants and moans of Hawkins’ name preseed into the tarot reader’s skin as Apoo marks up Hawkins’ neck and shoulders with his mouth.

Apoo cums first, his seed spilling deep inside of Hawkins body, making red eyes go wide as a lovely, stuttered cry falls from Hawkins’ throat. “A-AH! _ Apoo!” _ But he isn’t far behind, Apoo’s hand moving to stroke Hawkins’ cock and bring him to a similarly messy release. His cum splatters all over Apoo’s stomach as Hawkins pants for breath and holds tight to the other pirate.

They allow themselves a few moments to calm down before their eyes meet again and Apoo smiles, this one nervous but eager nonetheless. “So?” He asks quietly. “How’d I do?”

Hawkins’ eyes reveal nothing as he moves off of Apoo and sits on his folded legs. “Bring me a towel from my bathroom and we will talk.” His words are spoken with a slightly scratchy voice, though his expression remains blank. But, as Apoo turns his back to Hawkins to do as he’s been told, he catches a glimpse of that lovely smile, and he doesn’t feel quiet so nervous.


End file.
